It's now time for just the terror with Nick Guerra.

There is a door in my house that has never been opened. At least not in the 20 plus years that I've lived here with my family. My wife, who grew up in the house, didn't remember it being open either.

When I tried to talk to her family about it, they quickly changed the subject.

Something was up with it, but as usual,

live got in the way and I mostly didn't think about it.

Then my wife decided to rearrange the basement. See, this door was in the

basement and had been blocked by about a ton and a half of junk. The door in question was in the

most shadowed corner of the under stair storage closet.

I've always assumed that it leads to another closet dug out when the basement was poured back in the early 40s,

but I guess it got shut and locked early in the house's life.

In any case, it was locked now, and had been since the first time I laid eyes on it.

The lock was a large iron padlock and at long ago rusted from the inevitable

moisture that could be found in an old basement. The hinges too were iron, long bands that

stretched the third of the way across the surface of the wooden door.

The door appeared to be made of vertically aligned ancient two by sixes,

and I pictured them held together by two or three horizontal two by

sixes used as straps. Shelly caught me staring at the door.

What? Oh, that door. Don't you ever wonder what lies behind it?

Not really. I think I asked mom about it once shortly after daddy died.

When she was doing all of her remodeling with the insurance money,

I think she said it was an old well that the original owners installed.

I thought your family was the original owner.

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